


Connected

by kikabennet



Series: The Wonderful World of Teenagers [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Growing Up, Husbands, M/M, Married Fluff, Married Life, Multi, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Underage Sex, daddy!ian gallagher, daddy!mickey milkovich, families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:27:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikabennet/pseuds/kikabennet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to "Too Old" and part of the "Wonderful World of Teenager" series. The kids continue to grow up and face life on their own, but will always have the support of their parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been two months since three different incidents happened with their children, Mickey realized. Two months since Yevgeny had started going out again, getting his life back on track. Two months since Izzy had fallen for a boy online only to figure out he was a boy in town used as a stunt to humiliate her. Two months since Gavrel had come out to him, and only to him, he realized.

He contemplated this as he brushed his teeth early in the morning preparing for a new set of work days. In bed, Ian stirred and Mickey could hear him tossing and turning. Eventually, Ian sat up, scratching his armpit.

“Mornin',” Mickey said casually, heading back to the bed to fetch his belt from the floor and to peck his husband on the lips.

“Mm...” Ian grunted.

“Caveman talk, huh?” Mickey said, and Ian laid back down and covered his face with a pillow, he uncovered it and said in a foggy voice, “Today's Gavvie's birthday.”

“Yeah,” Mickey said, tugging on his fire retardant work denims. “ 'Lana said they're just givin' him money. Think we should do the same?”

“I hate giving the kids money,” Ian said, still blinking heavily. He rubbed at his tired eyes. “I miss the days where we could pick out toys and movies and books and stuff.”

He expected Mickey to tell him those days were over or even just a simple witty remark, but as Mickey buttoned his work shirt, he paused and said, “Me too.”

“You know,” Ian said, sitting up again. “I wish Gavvie would talk to us about the Jakob thing. I mean, he could just be fuckin' around because he's horny and curious, but if he's gay...”

Mickey looked away, feeling guilty for having such a large secret to keep.

“Mick, what if he is gay?” Ian asked.

“So what?” Mickey shrugged one shoulder.

“I always thought it would be Yevvie,” Ian said, giving a half smile as he stared off into space. “I mean, shit, even Izzy makes more sense.”

He sighed and said, “Izzy and Yevvie too. I wish they would all talk to us a little more. They know the shitty childhood we had. Why would they be afraid to talk to us?”

“You know it ain't even six yet, right?” Mickey reminded him. “Why don't you go for a run or do six million sit ups to clear your head before you start a deep mental journey?”

“Two more days without the kids,” Ian said, getting out of bed. “I miss them so much.”

“It's nice to bang with the door open,” Mickey said helpfully. “And to have the house at a normal temperature. Dear God, Yevvie turns it down to the fuckin' Arctic on the thermostat.”

“Just like how Izzy doesn't ever shut the cabinet doors all the way?” Ian added, smiling. “I always know where she's been in the house because all of the cabinet doors and drawers will be open.”

“I'll see you when I get off, okay?” Mickey said, giving him one more kiss. “Take your meds and don't call some family radio therapist blabbin' all our business.”

Ian chuckled dryly and said, “Yes, Dear.”

Mickey flipped him off.

=============================================================================

 

Gavrel stirred himself awake and stretched, feeling satisfied when he heard certain joints pop. Beside him, Jakob stirred too. He rolled onto his side to look at Gavrel, who was covering his mouth with one hand as he made the most of his first yawn of the day, gently slapping the mattress with the other.

“Happy birthday,” Jakob said, somewhat sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah.” Gavrel grinned sleepily. “I'm fourteen.”

“Just three months behind me,” Jakob said.

They were in Jakob's bed this time. Jakob's parents were away for the weekend in New York. Gavrel thought Jakob was lucky for having parents that disappeared so often, but he also could tell how lonely it made him.

“What are you doing for your birthday?” Jakob asked sitting up, his thick dark hair going in all directions.

“I just asked my parents for money,” Gavrel said. “I want a new phone, but we have to buy our own phones.”

“I could take you out for your birthday,” Jakob said, smiling shyly, but also a little proudly. “We could go downtown or something, or there's this place I read about online that's for adults, but the walls and floor are made of trampoline material.”

“That sounds like it's for kids,” Gavrel said, his brows furrowing.

“Well, they serve beer,” Jakob replied with a half shrug. “I guess bouncing around and falling is much more fun that way?”

“I wouldn't know,” Gavrel said, also sitting up, crossing his legs and putting his hands between them. “Diabetics can't have beer.”

He said it a little sadly, knowing it was an adult rite of passage he would never get to experience. Jakob felt bad for him, even though drinking hardly crossed his mind at all because his parents didn't drink. Gavrel scratched himself under his t-shirt and then scratched himself through his flannel pajama bottoms.

“It still sounds fun, though,” he said.

“I just want to be able to do something for you too,” Jakob said.

“We could have sex,” Gavrel said, trying to sound casual. For two months now, Jakob had rejected all of Gavrel's invitations to actual sex.

“Gavvie...” Jakob sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“What?” Gavrel let out a breathy, unamused laugh. “I'm fourteen now. We can't get each other pregnant. I don't understand what the problem is.”

“You don't think it's kind of a big deal?” Jakob asked.

“We already blow each other,” Gavrel said. “You fingered me a couple of times...”

“Okay...” Jakob said after several seconds.

“Okay...you're about to say something else or okay...yes?” Gavrel squinted skeptically.

“Okay yes,” Jakob said, not being able to suppress the tiniest smile at his best friend's persistence, though he tried very hard. “But.”

“Fuck, here we go.” Gavrel fell back onto the plush pillows.

“Not till tonight,” Jakob said. “I want you to at least think about it, and, you know, yourself.”

“Fuck, are we doing this _again_?” Gavrel asked, climbing off of the bed. “How many times do I have to tell you I'm fuckin' gay. Hell, I already came out to Mickey.”

“It took me a long time to sort myself out,” Jakob said carefully. “I just don't want you to rush into anything.”

“You're a fuckin' nerd, Sitruk,” Gavrel replied, stretching again to pop his back.

Jakob gave him a half smile. He was glad Gavrel wasn't really upset with him. He watched as Gavrel continued to stretch and when he crawled back onto the bed he said, “Okay, I'll think on it, and then I'll come back and we'll bang for real.”

 

=======================================================================================================

 

Izzy loved jogging. She understood why Ian did it so often now. The fresh air and sunshine and general movement cleared her mind, literally. Not a single thought passed through her head as she jogged around the upscale North Side neighborhood she lived in with her mother and Alex. She had started going jogging with her father again just to kill time, and so she didn't have to think of John or Dmetri or whatever his real name was.

She slowed down near a fountain to catch her breath. She wasn't wearing expensive athletic clothes like the other joggers in the area. Just some cotton shorts, running shoes (new ones that Ian had bought for her just because she was, as he put it, his sweet little running buddy) and her hair was put into a not-so-stylish ponytail. She'd never felt better, however. The wind in her face, sweat pouring down her back, the backs of her knees and under her arms. It was all so refreshing. It made her realize something. As much as art made her happy, gave her a feeling of satisfaction when she finished a project, mindless exercise also made her happy, in a very different way. She now wanted to exercise more. Not just run, but maybe Yoga, maybe some sports. She had been in dance when she was little, but grew bored and became attached to a painting class. She'd also grown bored of Karate, soccer, and softball. Maybe now things would be different.

========================================================================================================

“You're gonna love it,” Lita said as she and Yevgeny walked down the street. “Trust me.”

“I'm really sure I won't,” Yevgeny replied, “so if you're wrong, I'm gonna punch you in the face.”

He said it teasingly, and Lita laughed, tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Did anyone ever tell you...” Yevgeny felt himself blushing as he grinned. “That you laugh like Drew Barrymore.”

Lita was smiling too, and she shook her head.

“No, that's a new one,” she said. “Is it a good thing?”

“Yeah,” Yevgeny nodded, laughing a little. “I mean, yeah, Drew Barrymore's great.”

Lita slapped his shoulder lightly and said, “Come on.”

They entered the small shop with high tables and bar stools instead of chairs and Lita dragged him to the counter where there was a chalkboard menu hanging up on the wall.

“I wouldn't even begin to know how to order bubble tea,” Yevgeny admitted, looking at the menu, utterly lost.

“I still can't believe you've never tried it,” Lita said.

“Big Gulps at the Kash and Grab,” Yevgeny explained simply, still looking over the menu. “Watermelon tea...the hell?”

He looked at Lita and theatrically sighed.

“Wanna just order for me?” He asked.

“You sure?” She asked, and he nodded.

“Tell you what,” she offered. “Since I'm ordering for you and you might hate it, I'll do you one better. I'll buy it for you, that way if you hate it, you can't complain that you wasted YOUR money on something that was MY idea.”

Yevgeny peeked into the display case warily.

“They look like frog eyes,” he said.

 

===================================================================================

 

“Hey, Dad,” Gavrel said, coming into the house and removing his hat to mess his own hair.

“What are you doin' here?” Mickey asked, unbuttoning his work shirt and removing it. He took hold of the hem of his t-shirt and wiped sweat from his face with it. “How'd you get here?”

“Took the train,” Gavrel said with a shrug. He went to the fridge and dug around inside, settling on some left over pot pie Ian had made. He ate it standing up.

“Happy birthday by the way,” Mickey said, pouring himself some ice tea. “My wallet's on the table, help yourself to whatever bills are floatin' around in there.”

Gavrel, slowly chewing a mouthful of pot pie, eyed the wallet, but didn't move. Mickey frowned at him.

“Somethin' on your mind?” He asked.

“No,” Gavrel lied, chickening out. The whole reason he'd gone home was to try and talk to Mickey about everything that was bothering him.

“You little liar,” Mickey said casually, but didn't press. He drank some tea and checked his phone.

“You didn't tell Dad about me, did you?” Gavrel suddenly asked.

Mickey looked up. “No.”

“Okay.”

Mickey let out a frustrated sound, putting his phone down and scrubbing a hand over his mouth.

“Why don't you want him to know?” He asked.

Gavrel shrugged. He actually wasn't sure why he didn't want Ian to know. He loved Ian exactly the same as he loved his other father and his mother, but he didn't feel _connected_ to him the way Izzy or Yevgeny did. Ian always wanted to talk about feelings and other uncomfortable subjects. Mickey, like Gavrel, could just enjoy comfortable silence once in a while without wondering if something was wrong.

“Dad?” Gavrel put the pot pie back in the fridge without bothering to cover it back up.

Mickey looked back at him once more.

“Why did you say I was too young for sex?” Gavrel asked, as blunt as only he could be.

Mickey sighed.

“Fuck. Really, Gavvie?” His eyebrows went up.

Gavrel looked away.

“Because you are,” Mickey said.

“I can't get Jake pregnant,” Gavrel pointed out.

“It has nothing to do with pregnancy and STDs and shit,” Mickey replied, sounding frustrated. He sat down at the kitchen table and motioned for Gavrel to sit across for him. Gavrel sat.

“I started bangin' guys and girls around the neighborhood...around your age actually,” Mickey said. “Then Dad came around and...well, things were fuckin' complicated for a while, but sex with him, it was different.”

Gavrel didn't seem the least bit disgusted by his father's words. He simply frowned in deep concentration.

“If I could go back and give my first time to Dad, I would,” Mickey said, and his tone was so honest that Gavrel actually had to meet him in the eyes to see if they were just as truthful.

He sighed and continued, “I'm not sayin' you have to wait until your fuckin' wedding night or whatever, but you're gonna meet someone eventually you'd wished you'd waited for, and you'd probably rather not gone through fifty fuckin' others already.”

“Oh,” was all Gavrel said.

“Not to mention, you're fourteen. You're a kid.” Mickey tugged roughly on his son's ear. “Video games and bike rides and all that shit.”

The sound of the front door made them both turn their heads even though they knew it was Ian. He wiped his t-shirt on his face.

“How was the gym?” Mickey asked.

“Leg day,” Ian said, grinning with an exasperated sigh. He looked at Gavrel.

“Hi.” Gavrel smiled.

“My baby boy,” Ian said, kissing his forehead. “Happy birthday, Kiddo.”

===================================================================================

 

“Okay, so you don't like bubble tea,” Lita said, laughing as she and Yevgeny headed home in the direction of the train.

“No, I don't,” Yevgeny agreed. “But at least I tried it, right?”

“And it was free,” Lita pointed out.

As they walked, Yevgeny realized their hands were close enough to touch. He brushed against her by accident to avoid a woman with a jogging stroller and his fingers brushed against hers. He pulled his hand away and gave her a shy, apologetic smile. She smiled back and gave him a half shrug in return.

“You know what?” Yevgeny let out a small sigh. “Fuck it.”

He took her hand and held it and looked at her with a burning face to see if she was about to pull her hand back. She opened her mouth a little, looking at their hands, and then up at Yevgeny.

“Maybe you'd like sushi,” she said. “Raw fish and seaweed?”

Yevgeny relaxed then, and scooted just a little bit closer to her.

“You like sushi?” He asked her.

“I like chicken and dumplings,” she said. “It's my favorite meal ever.”

“Oh, you'd love my dad's chicken and dumplings,” Yevgeny told her. “He actually got the recipe from my grandpa, Frank. He makes...well, we call them 'fat people chicken and dumplings'.”

Lita laughed.

“Why?” She wanted to know.

“Because my dad serves them over cheesy mashed potatoes,” Yevgeny said, trying not to smile as Lita laughed harder.

“That actually sounds really good,” she said. “But I already tried your dad's boiled shrimp and potatoes and I could eat that forever.”

They were now nearing the train, where they would part ways. Yevgeny looked at their hands and pulled his away. Not knowing what to do with it, he stuck it in his pocket. Lita tucked some hair behind her ear.

“So I'll see you at work?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Lita nodded. “Definitely.”

She looked around, suddenly interested in where they were. Yevgeny did the same.

“Well, see ya,” Lita said.

Yevgeny nodded and as he started to walk away, Lita took him by the arm and pulled him into a sweet, but very brief kiss on the lips. When she pulled back, her cheeks were burning.

“See you at work,” she said, hurrying off in the other direction, her phone to her ear.

 

=====================================================================================

 

“Hi.” Jakob smiled when he opened the door to Gavrel.

“Hey,” Gavrel said, looking around. “Your parents still aren't back?”

“Tomorrow,” Jakob explained. “I mean, their flight comes in tomorrow.”

Gavrel let his backpack with his change of clothes drop on the floor. Jakob watched him, fidgeting nervously.

“You hungry?” He asked. “I ordered sandwiches from that place you like. Ham and cheese on rye, right? Mayonnaise and mustard?”

“Wha? Oh, yeah, thanks, Man.” Gavrel followed Jakob into the kitchen, which was as white and spotless as the rest of the house.

The boys ate their sandwiches and Jakob dug out some sugar-free applesauce from the fridge for dessert.

“Did you get this for me?” Gavrel asked. He wondered if he had told Jakob before how much he loved applesauce. His mother told him that when he was little, he went through a phase of wanting it for dinner.

“Um, no,” Jakob admitted. “My parents tend to buy sugar free things like applesauce and juice. They also buy breads without nitrites or...something.”

Gavrel scraped the remaining applesauce out of its little plastic cup. “Wanna go upstairs after this?”

Jakob nodded, looking away. “Um, yeah. Sure.”

Once the boys were upstairs, Jakob took his phone and approached the bed where Gavrel was lying across it reading a magazine he'd picked up off the floor. It had a creepy looking mummy on the front, so he figured it might be interesting, but to his disappointment, most of the pictures were of space or African wildlife. He tossed it back down.

“I've been researching all day,” Jakob told him. “I want this to be perfect for you.”

Gavrel rolled over onto his back and patted his stomach absent-mindedly.

“What?” He asked.

Jakob's brows furrowed slightly. “Tonight...sex...I thought...”

Gavrel sat up.

“Dude, I want it to be perfect for us, not just me.”

“Well...” Jakob's face turned red.

Gavrel took him by the wrist and jerked him onto the bed roughly.

“This isn't gonna be perfect,” he told him.

Jakob stared at him.

“I actually don't think we should,” Gavrel continued.

“Oh,” Jakob said.

“You're not really into the idea,” Gavrel said, hating to talk about feelings, but what choice did he have? “And maybe it's just not the right time...you said it yourself-I'm new to this.”

“Me too,” Jakob said in a small voice.

“I mean, I really want to,” Gavrel said with a sigh. “But I don't want it to happen now if we're both big fucking nerds about it.”

Jakob gave him a half smile. He dared to put his hand over Gavrel's, more like halfway over his hand, but still...Gavrel didn't pull his away.

“What if we wait until one year from now?” He asked. “That way if things are different between us, then, no regrets, right?”

“I don't want things to be different between us.” The words were out of his mouth before Gavrel could stop them. He looked away, embarrassed. Jakob didn't call him out on it.

“If things are still like this,” he continued. “Then it'll be different, and maybe we'll be ready.”  
“A year's a long time,” Gavrel pointed out, moving to straddle Jakob's lap, holding the other boy's wrists.

Jakob nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“You promise, though?” Gavrel asked. “Just one year? You won't make it two on my next birthday? Some sweet sixteen shit?”

Jakob smiled, shaking his head.

“Fine. Whatever.” Gavrel climbed off of him.

 

==============================================================================

 

Two days later, when they were back at their fathers' house, Izzy threw on her running shoes and called, “I'm going jogging!”

She was out the door before anybody could respond to her. As she stopped at the street to pull her hair up, she spotted Joey Pols, and groaned. She'd been going to school with Joey since she was very young, and he'd lived a few houses down for years. Joey only saw as far as his next meal and made a game out of everything, making serious group work in school difficult, and he was obsessed with sports. He wasn't a bad looking kid, Izzy suddenly thought, just brain-dead. He was lean and had long legs, perfect for track probably, and was tan with light brown hair in a cowlick. He was also almost always moving, as if he were in perpetual motion.

“Isidora Milkovich is jogging?” He asked, as she started a good pace.

“Shut up,” she told him, stopping to retie her shoe.

Joey trotted over to her.

“Can I come?” He asked. “I need the practice for basketball.”

“Fine.” Izzy purposely whipped her ponytail at him. “Just try to keep up.”

“Says the girl who tripped and skinned her knee last year during the mile run?” Joey laughed. “You were all crying and limping like you lost your leg in the war.”

Izzy ignored him. As they jogged, she noticed how NOT tired he was. Her chest hurt and her armpits and forehead were pouring sweat.

“You know that we have to write an essay on a book before school starts,” she reminded him, trying to rub salt in his wound. His weakness was school itself. He was actually a year older than his class because he'd been held back in Kindergarten.

“The school sent out a list of books,” she said, wishing he would at least pant a little. She didn't know if she'd make it another block.

“I know,” he said simply. “I already picked mine. _Moby Dick_.”

“ 'Moby Dick'?” Izzy repeated. “That wasn't on the list.”

“It says we can pick a book from the list OR any book above a sixth grade reading level,” Joey told her. He stopped to shake a pebble out of his shoe. Izzy stopped too, taking in huge gulps of air.

“What are you even gonna say?” She panted. “I know good and well you didn't read _Moby Dick._ ”

“I'm just gonna BS the whole thing,” Joey said, fanning himself slightly with his shirt. “Talk about how he was some guy that went on a 'character journey' and did stuff and everything worked out for him because he's such a great guy. I'm sure they made a movie I can watch.”

They started jogging again. Izzy wiped her face with her shirt.

“Joey?” She said.

“Yeah?”

“Moby Dick was a whale.”

Joey stopped, Izzy stopped again too. She was trying not to smile.

“A whale?” He frowned in disbelief.

Izzy nodded.

“Fuck...” Joey shook his head. “Okay, well, I'll write about Hercules. I saw that movie. The cartoon one.”

“Okay, so you know that hardly any of that was actually based off the mythology,” Izzy said.

“Ugh!” Joey ran his hands through his short hair. “I hate school!”

“My dad's a teacher,” Izzy said. “Maybe he could help you out.”

They stopped jogging and Izzy asked, “So why haven't you brought up what happened? I know everybody knows. About John aka Dmetri.”

“Who?” Joey frowned.

“It was all over Snapchat and Facebook,” Izzy told him. “The whole school saw it.”

“I don't do Snapchat or Facebook or any of that stuff,” Joey said simply. “Takes away time from hockey and baseball and track and tennis and football and-”

Izzy smiled a little.

“Oh, okay,” she said.

Joey gave her a hearty slap on the back, almost knocking her over.

“Try to keep up with me, Milkovich,” he said, starting to jog again.

================================================================================

 

“You makin' chicken and dumplings?” Mickey asked, raising the lid of the pot on the stove curiously. “Been a while since you made that, right?”

Ian moved around the kitchen, walking sideways past Mickey.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” he said. “But it's also been a while since we had everybody at the table. God, I can't wait for school to start so they have a routine again.”

Mickey sampled a spoonful of the chicken and dumplings and then another, and another. Ian looked at him. Mickey stared back at him.

“What?” He asked.

“Is it good?” Ian shrugged.

“It's really good,” Mickey said.

“Hey.” Ian took a break to lean against the counter beside the kitchen sink. He fidgeted with a dish towel he was holding. “Has Gavvie said anything else about Jake? I mean, they still hang out and everything, and it actually...”

“Actually what?” Mickey asked, taking one more bite.

“I dunno.” Ian moved away from the counter. “I see them heading upstairs or sitting on the couch or just standing around and they just...they look like us sometimes.”

“Like us?” Mickey frowned skeptically.

“Back in the day, ignore me, okay?”

“You need to talk to Gavvie,” Mickey told him. “He, uh, said some stuff to me, but I know he wants to tell you too.”

Ian stared at Mickey for a long time, and nodded understandingly.

 

To Be Continued...

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're ready for the update! Each kiddo is about to get their own little chapter, and then each kid will get a chapter with each parent. Any ideas, throw my way! Kudos and comments much appreciated!

“I'm going jogging!” Izzy called, tightening the laces on her sneakers. Just as she got to the front door, Mickey tugged on her ponytail lightly.

“What's with all the running lately, huh?” He asked, sipping his morning coffee.

Izzy shrugged. She opened the front door and turned back to wave to her father as she trotted across the lawn and onto the sidewalk.

“Milkovich!” As expected, she saw Joey Pols across the street. He was almost always outside running or shooting hoops or on his way to play pick up football with the neighborhood guys.

“Hi, Joey,” she said. “I'm going running.”

She meant it as an invitation for him to join her, but it seemed to go over his head. He waved and said, “Have fun.”

Izzy stopped and stared at him. He was doing stretches, and she knew he was about to go running too. He didn't even glance at her.

“Want to come with me?” She asked.

“Oh.” He looked up. “Sure.”

As they started to jog together in the cool, early morning air, Izzy wondered what she should even talk to Joey about. All he ever talked about was sports. Even in school, he was a sports junkie. In the fourth grade they had been assigned to pick a poem of their choice and recite it to the whole class and explain why they picked that poem. Joey had picked _Casey at the Bat_ and just shrugged and told the teacher it was about baseball.

“So how's your family?” Izzy asked, and then wondered why she asked a question that only a forty-year old woman would ask another forty-year old woman in church. No wonder she didn't have any friends.

“Good, I guess,” Joey said. “It's just me and my mom.”

“You don't have any brothers or sisters?” Izzy asked.

Joey shook his head and said simply, “My dad left when I was two. My mom said she could never put another kid through that, but I don't even remember him anyway.”

That made Izzy feel sorry for him. She could not imagine life without her fathers, and hated the idea even worse of them leaving her forever after already knowing her for two whole years. It made her feel guilty, in an odd way, that she had two fathers and Joey didn't even have one.

They turned the corner and started on the next block. A woman was watering her lawn. A man with a slew of small children was trying to get them to help him carry things from the back of a pick up truck. Two kids were bicycle racing.

“I have to stop for a minute,” Izzy said, panting.

Joey stopped, not even breathing heavily.

“So what book did you end up picking?” She asked him, sitting down on the sidewalk.

“I haven't yet,” Joey said. “I hate to read.”

“You have to read,” Izzy told him. “That's part of life.”

She realized that she sounded like all of her parents talking to Gavrel, who also hated to read. Like Mickey, math was more his area. Joey was bad at math too. He was bad at everything.

“Why don't you let my dad help you pick out a book?” She suggested. “He'll be teaching sixth grade in North Side when school starts. He could help you.”

“You want me to come over?” Joey asked, frowning skeptically.

Izzy shrugged.

“What time?” Joey asked.

“Maybe four o'clock?” She replied. “Before he gets busy with dinner and stuff.”

Joey made a face. “Dinner?”

“That meal you eat before bed,” Izzy said sarcastically. She tripped.

“Hey!” Joey backed up and squatted down next to her. “Are you alright?”

“I'm bleeding,” Izzy said, wincing as she touched her lip, which was gushing blood.

“Gross,” Joey agreed. “You're bleeding everywhere.”

Izzy's right knee also had blood trickling down from it. Drops of blood were on her shirt, running down her leg, staining her socks, and on the sidewalk.

“Here.”

Izzy watched as Joey removed his shirt and thrust it at her, so close she almost went cross-eyed. She put it to her face, trying to ignore the stench and dampness from his sweat.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching down to dab some blood on her leg.

“Can you make it home okay?” Joey asked.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I should be fine.”

A lady walking three small dogs stopped in front of them.

“Are you alright?” She asked in a thick, Spanish accent.

Another lady, an older black lady driving a giant gas guzzler of a car, pulled up to see what the commotion was all about.

“You need a ride, baby?” She asked Izzy.

Izzy's cheeks turned red from all the attention.

“Can we get a ride about two blocks that way?” Joey asked her, pointing.

They climbed into the back of the car and Izzy tried to hand Joey back his shirt, but he shook his head.

“What're you kids doin'?” The lady asked as she started to drive.

“We were running,” Izzy said.

“And talking about school,” Joey said. “It was talking about school that made her fall. School's dangerous.”

The lady laughed and said, “Well, you two be careful. That looks like it was a nasty fall.”

She dropped them off and they thanked her. Izzy looked at her house, which she could see just down the street. Joey took her around the waist and directed one of her arms over his shoulder.

“Here,” he said. “I'll help you walk.”

“I can walk,” Izzy said.

Joey pulled away. “Okay.”

As they walked, she noticed he slowed down a little for her. When they got to the house, Ian was walking the trash outside. He noticed them immediately, set the bag down, and jogged over.

“Izzy, what happened?” He asked.

“I fell,” Izzy said miserably. “A couple of blocks away actually.”

Ian looked at Joey, but didn't ask who he was. He inspected Izzy's knee and then saw her lip.

“We need to get you inside,” he told her. “Clean that up.”

Izzy nodded and looked at Joey.

“Thanks for helping me back,” she told him.

Joey shrugged and said, “Take a picture and put it on Facebook or wherever. You can say you have real duck face.”

Izzy flipped him off, but she couldn't suppress her smile. She looked at Ian and said, “Dad, this is Joey. He lives right over there. He's in my grade. He's wondering if you can help him with the book report due before school starts.”

Ian looked at Joey again, mouth open to protest because of the abruptness of it all, but decided not to say anything.

“Maybe when he has a shirt on,” Izzy said slowly, understanding.

Joey and Ian both nodded.

========================================================================================

Around three-thirty, a knock sounded at the door. Mickey had just got home and was in the middle of taking off his uniformed button-up over shirt. He removed it and tossed it on the back of the sofa, scratching himself through his t-shirt. He opened the door and frowned at a lanky child, wearing a t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a tie. A zebra print tie.

“Can I help you?” Mickey asked.

“I'm here for Izzy,” the boy said uneasily. “This is her house, right?”

“Depends,” Mickey said, taking a sip of his beer. “Who the hell are you?”

Izzy pushed past Mickey and said, “It's okay, he's my friend. He's here about help with a book report.”

“In the middle of July?” Mickey frowned even more.

Izzy pulled Joey in and Mickey walked away, calling for Ian and asking about dinner and the electric bill and other boring grown up things Izzy didn't care about.

“Why are you wearing a tie?” She asked Joey.

“To impress your parents,” Joey said with a shrug. “My mom told me I should wear a tie.”

“Oh.” Izzy didn't know what to say to that. She gestured for him to follow her.

“Who was that guy that answered the door?” Joey asked as he followed her into the kitchen where the kitchen table was clean, but cluttered.

“My dad,” she said simply, clearing away some of the clutter.

“Then who was the guy from before?” He wanted to know.

“My other dad,” she said. “I have two dads, well, technically three because I also have a stepdad.”

Joey's brows furrowed and he sat down at the table with her.

“Your dads are, like, gay or something?” He asked.

Izzy nodded, her eyebrows raised in a 'duh' kind of way.

“You want a pop?” She asked. “Tea? Milk? A martini?”

“Pop sounds good,” Joey told her, looking around.

Ian came into the kitchen, wiping his face with his sweaty work out shirt. He had just got done running himself and then had gone to the gym.

“Hey, Joey,” he said, making his way to the fridge. “Izzy tells me you need help with that book report.”

“Um, yeah...” Joey wriggled in his seat uneasily.

Ian took a bottle of water from the fridge and drank a lot of it. He then pressed to the cold plastic to the side of an unsuspecting Izzy's cheek, and she jumped and squealed.

“Dad, stop it!” She said, laughing and swatting at him.

Ian chuckled and pretended to bite her but instead attacked her with several cheek and neck kisses. He then ruffled her hair roughly and said, “Um, let me go change and then we'll talk, okay?”

“Okay,” Izzy said, handing Joey his can of soda. She sat down in the chair next to him.

“What's wrong?” She asked Joey.

Joey shook his head. “Nothing.”

“You have a problem with my dads being gay?” Izzy asked.

“No.” Joey shook his head again.

Mickey came into the kitchen and peeked into the lid of a crock pot.

“Chicken chili, Daddy,” Izzy told him.

“That sounds good,” Mickey muttered, putting the lid back on. He looked at Joey. Joey looked at him.

“Dad!”

They all turned to see Yevgeny jog into the kitchen and hurriedly begin chatting with Mickey about the car and some kind of concert going on.

“Are you taking Lita?” Izzy asked, grinning.

“A lot of us are going from work,” Yevgeny told her as Mickey handed him the car keys. “And it's just some local hipster band.”

“Sounds like a fuckin' nightmare,” Mickey commented.

“Yeah, but the girl who sings in the band is married to one of the servers so...” Yevgeny trailed off with a shrug.

“Have fun, Kid.” Mickey kissed his cheek and gave him a hearty slap on the back as he walked away. “Don't wreck my car.”

Ian came back in a fresh t-shirt and jeans and said, “Alright, book report.”

“Joey hates to read,” Izzy blabbed.

“That's okay.” Ian shrugged. “I had a brother who hated reading, and a son who hates to read too. It's not everybody's thing.”  
“But it's a part of life,” Izzy said. “That's what you told Gavvie.”

Ian was no longer listening to Izzy. He was staring at Joey's tie. Joey noticed, and fingered it nervously.

“What do you think?” He asked him.

“I think it's kind of cool actually,” Ian replied, and Joey smiled.

==============================================================================

Ian went through different lists of books on his phone, and eventually helped Joey to pick out _Hatchet_ because it involved a boy learning to survive in the wild, a moose fight, a plane crash, and a dead pilot. Izzy herself had hated the book, but she liked books about love and friendship and coming of age and humorous situations.

“Dinner almost ready?” Mickey asked, coming back into the kitchen as Ian was just finishing up ordering a copy of the book online.

“Yes,” Ian told him. “God, will you stop asking?”

“Alright, Ian,” Mickey said, even though there was no malice to his tone. “You're about to make me mad.”

Izzy laughed as Mickey turned his back and Ian flipped him off. When Mickey heard Izzy laugh, he turned back around and then flipped Ian off.

“Wanna stay for dinner, Joey?” Ian asked. “I can't promise we behave any better than this, though.”

“Um...” Joey looked at Izzy, who said nothing. “Maybe some other time.”

He got up and Izzy followed him out the front door.

“What's wrong with my parents?” She wanted to know. “Are you a homophobe?”

“A what?” Joey frowned.

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Someone who hates gay people.”

“I don't hate gay people,” Joey said. “Well, maybe if there are gay serial killers on death row then I guess I hate some gay people, or if a gay person killed my dog then I'd hate that gay person.”

“What's wrong then?” Izzy asked.

“I just...” Joey's cheeks turned red against his tanned skin. “I don't know how to act around people's dads, alright? Especially your dad-Ian, or whoever. He's making dinner and stuff and...”

“And what?” Izzy frowned.

“Nothing,” Joey said sharply. “Just...bye, okay?”

“Fine.” Izzy marched back up to the door. “Bye.”

She came back inside and shut the front door a little too hard. Ian and Mickey looked at her, slowly eating their chili.

“He's a dumb jerk,” she said, sitting at the table.

Mickey shrugged and kept eating like nothing was wrong. Ian took a drink of his milk and said, “He seemed like a nice kid to me.”

“You don't even know him,” Izzy said sharply.

“Well, I know he literally gave you the shirt off his back when you were dripping blood everywhere,” Ian replied simply. “And he was polite to me, and to Dad.”

“Who is he again?” Mickey asked.

“Nobody,” Izzy muttered, getting up to fix her own bowl of chili.

Gavrel and Jakob came in, both sweaty and each holding a basketball. Izzy stared at them.

“How was the game?” Ian asked. He had helped them both get into a game at a local church neither boy attended.

“Our team, whatever the fuck it was called,” Gavrel said. “Won. It was just weird with all the praying and...that all the other guys knew each other from 'Youth Group' or some shit.”

“Did you tell them Jakob was Jewish?” Izzy asked, smiling, her mood changing slightly now that Joey was out of the house and familiarity was coming back.

“Nah.” Gavrel set his ball down and so did Jakob.

Quietly, he asked his friend, “You wanna eat, Man?”

Jakob nodded and replied in his usual polite, quiet way, “Sure.”

Izzy watched as Gavrel said, “Alright.” and very gently punched him in the shoulder. She didn't miss how that same hand, almost in a blur, trailed down Gavrel's arm and for a split second, maybe even a fraction of a second, wrapped itself around Jakob's fingers.

“Chicken chili,” Ian told the boys. “And Sheila made some sugar-free chocolate cake. Mickey and Yevvie went to town on it earlier today.”

Mickey nodded. “It's real good.”

Izzy, still frowning slightly, watched the boys go into the actual kitchen and clumsily fix themselves dinner. Ian tapped the tabletop next to her bowl. She looked at him.

“You in there?” He asked jokingly.

“Yeah.” She took a bite of her chili.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! This chapter is Gavrel-centric and does involve some non-graphic underage material, just as a heads up. I hope you enjoy it and as usual, if you comment with any questions or what not, I will respond asap. Enjoy!

“Gavvie?”

Gavrel, lying on his stomach staring zombie-eyed at the TV as he mashed buttons on the game controller, grunted in response as his sister sat down on his bed. They were at their mother's house, so it was not his uncomfortable twin bed, but the roomy, plush, full bed.

“Can you tell me about boys?” She asked him.

“Tell you what?” Her brother joked in a flat, dry tone. “How we pee?”

Izzy rolled her eyes. When she was younger and potty training, she'd tried to pee standing up like the men in her family and had to be re-instructed over and over.

“Why do boys act so weird?” She wanted to know.

Gavrel didn't skip a beat as he replied, “Why do girls act so weird?”

“We don't,” Izzy said.

“Yeah, you do,” Gavvie told her, making a frustrated noise as something went wrong in his video game playing. “You can have, like, fifty conversations going and be able to listen to all of them.”

He stopped playing and sat up.

“And you pull out ponytails a million times a day, hair and all. I get fucking sick to my stomach when I find one of your rubber bands covered in hair lying around. It's a miracle you're not bald.”

He saw the annoyance on his sister's face.

“Why do you wanna know about boys anyway?” He asked. “Is this about that Russian kid?”

“Not Russian,” Izzy reminded him. “And no. It's about a different boy. Joey Pols.”

Gavvie's brows furrowed. “Joey Pols? That kid down the street?”

“Yeah.”

Izzy stood up and said, “I feel like we could be friends, but he keeps a pretty safe distance, and all he cares about is sports and exercise.”

“What do you mean keeps a distance?” Gavrel asked.

“We go running together, and Dad helped him pick out a book for his summer reading,” Izzy explained. “But then he got all weird and talked about gay people on death row and how he can't be around other people's dads and got kind of an attitude with me.”

“Punch him in the face,” Gavrel said simply.

Izzy sat back down and groaned.

“I'm being serious,” she said. “I'm not trying to be his girlfriend or anything. How could I be? He's weird, but I kind of like hanging out with him.”

“I don't know,” Gavrel said, standing up to stretch. “I don't even think people should be boyfriend and girlfriend or anything. Just fuck and live your own life. Mind your own business.”

Izzy frowned at him.

“You don't really believe that,” she said. “I hope you don't. Look at Mom and Alex, or Dad and Daddy Ian. Those are real bonds.”

“Izzy, shut the fuck up,” Gavrel said, giving her a half smile as he popped some muscles in his neck. “You sound retarded.”

“You are retarded.” She hit him with a pillow.

Gavrel stepped into his shoes.

“Where are you going?” Izzy asked.

“Jake's house,” he said. “I'm staying the night.”

“What difference does it make?” Izzy scoffed. “I'm sure all you do over there is play video games just like you do here.”

Gavrel stopped in mid shoe-step. He continued and said nothing else.

“Look,” he finally said, on his way out the door. “Most guys just don't take hints. Just ask Slop to be your friend.”

“Slop?” Izzy frowned.

“His name spelled backwards,” Gavrel said, and Izzy smiled a little.

========================================================================

“Gavrel, hello,” Mr. Sitruk said when Gavrel arrived at Jakob's house. “We haven't seen you since the picnic, no?”

He spoke in a heavy, French accent. Gavrel watched as he worked on a model ship, the kind that you had to build in a bottle. He could only imagine if Mickey tried to build a tiny ship in a bottle. There would be a lot of broken bottles and not-so-nice words flying around. Ian would just get bored. Svetlana wouldn't even bother.

“I'm making skinless chicken breasts and steamed veggies for dinner,” Mrs. Sitruk said, directing a teenage boy into the kitchen with bags of groceries.

Jakob smiled at Gavrel, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. There were no grocery boys at the Milkovich house except for the boys that lived there.

“Mom,” he said. “Dad. We're going upstairs.”

“I'll buzz you when dinner's ready,” his mother told him, and Jakob nodded polietely.

Once they were in the safety of Jakob's room, Jakob said, “Sorry.”

“For what?” Gavrel asked.

“That I Shanghai'd you into eating dinner with my parents?” Jakob said with a weak shrug.

Gavrel shrugged too.

“They seem alright,” he said, flopping onto Jakob's bed.

Jakob stared at him.

“What?” Gavrel asked.

“Nothing,” Jakob replied. He perched primly beside Gavrel on the bed.

“Want to play a game or something?” He asked, nodding towards his TV and consoles.

Gavrel rolled onto his back and drummed his hands against his stomach. Jakob frowned slightly at him. Gavrel reached up and touched Jakob's forehead with his pointer finger. They both laughed a little.

“Gavvie?” Jakob said, lying down on his side beside the other boy.

Gavrel turned his head to face him.

“That night we had to call your dad for insulin,” Jakob said, shifting nervously. “You asked me if we do the stuff we do is because we're friends...”

Gavrel felt his heart start to pound and his face heat up, even his ears.

Jakob shifted so he was closer, their noses almost touching, and asked quietly, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Gavrel sat up. He could feel his body shaking, and he hated that. He hated feelings and stupid, sappy, lovey-dovey stuff. Jakob sat up too.

“Would we have to go on dates?” He asked warily.

“I guess not...” Jakob shrugged. “I mean, we already go play basketball together and walk around town and we don't call those dates.”

“Do I have to call you 'Honey' and 'Babe'?” Gavrel continued.

“I'd prefer you didn't,” Jakob said, fighting a smile. “Jake is fine.”

“So it'd be just like the way things are now?” Gavrel asked.

Jakob nodded.

Gavrel shrugged and said, “Okay. Sure. Whatever, Man.”

Jakob stared at him, and then looked away, flustered.

“Cool,” he said, letting out a short, breathy laugh.

“So are we playing Call of Duty or what?” Gavrel asked.

=================================================

Dinner with Jakob's parents was not anything like Gavrel was used to. It was quiet, for one thing. Gavrel was so used to a lot of noise and conversation, but the Sitruk's said very little as they ate, their forks and knives scraping against the fine china being the only real noise. The dinner itself wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. Svetlana, Ian, and Alex were all really good cooks, and Ian had grown up on 'poor as fuck' food (as the Gallaghers called it) and it was usually extra delicious because it had a lot of things in it that weren't good for you. Dinner tonight was some kind of fish in sauce with bland rice and vegetables.

“How is your father, Gavrel?” Mr. Sitruk asked, sipping some of his water.

Gavrel looked up at him.

“Which one?” He asked.

The Sitruk's exchanged confused looks.

“Alex is his stepfather, Dad,” Jakob explained quietly.

“Oh, that's right,” his own father said, nodding thoughtfully. He didn't ask anymore about any of Gavrel's fathers.

Jakob stared at Gavrel, who finally looked at him and frowned slightly.

“Gavrel has two dads,” Jakob told his parents, looking at Gavrel. “They're gay.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Sitruk looked up from her plate. “That's inspiring. You must be very proud, Gavrel.”

Gavrel wanted to say 'not really' because his parents mostly pissed him off and embarrassed him. Their sexuality didn't mean one thing or another to him. He didn't feel comfortable enough around the Stitruk's to make such a comment, so he said nothing. He just poked at his fish.

“We support the LGBT community,” Mr. Sitruk said, pointing his fork at the boys. “Everyone should have a right to be who they are.”

Gavrel suddenly remembered his father's words when he came out to him. Mickey had told him that being gay didn't define him as a person. He felt his appetite disappear.

“What if I was gay?” Jakob asked them carefully.

“Well, you're not gay,” his mother told him. “For one thing, you're too young to make that kind of decision.”

=======================================================================================

“So your parents support gay people, but not you?” Gavrel asked once the boys were back upstairs in Jakob's room.

“They were being polite because you were there,” Jakob said, sitting down on his bed. “They believe homosexuality is a mental illness.”

“Maybe it is.” Gavrel sat on the bed too, and collapsed onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

“You really believe that?” Jakob asked him, sounding dejected.

“I didn't say it was bad,” Gavrel said. “But I mean, isn't sex made for making kids?”

“Maybe gay sex is natural too,” Jakob laid down beside him, only on his stomach. “Like a form of birth control.”

“That's true,” Gavrel agreed. He couldn't help but grin just a little when Jakob leaned in to peck him on the lips.

Their kissing became slower, deeper, and Gavrel felt his whole body radiating with heat. Pretty soon, he'd half dragged Jakob on top of him.

“I wish...” he said between kissing and gasping for air. “That we didn't have to wait until next year to fuck. I really want to.”

“We can.” Jakob kissed him again. “If you want.”

Gavrel didn't let him kiss him after that.

“Are you fucking with me?” He asked suspiciously.

Jakob shook his head. Gavrel pushed him off and sat up. Jakob sat up too.

“What changed your mind?” Gavrel asked warily. “Just a few days ago you said we had to wait.”

“You weren't my boyfriend a few days ago,” Jakob said with a small shrug.

“I should punch you in the face,” Gavrel said, and Jakob laughed a little. Gavrel couldn't help but smile.

“So we really can?” He asked. “Tonight? Like, right now?”

“Um...yeah...” Jakob nodded, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. He looked around and then got off the bed to move across the room and lock his bedroom door.

Gavrel got off the bed too, jamming his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. The two of them stood facing each other, looking around awkwardly.

“Maybe we should take off our clothes,” Jakob finally suggested, and Gavrel nodded, clumsily pulling his shirt over his head. Jakob did the same.

The two tried to keep eye-contact as they removed their jeans, their socks, and finally their underwear. They sat down on the bed.

“This is a little more familiar,” Gavrel joked dryly. “So how do you wanna do this, Man?”

Jakob let out a short, breathy laugh. “Um...you mean...?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Gavrel repeated sarcastically.

“How do you want to do this?” Jakob asked.

“Not like this,” Gavrel said. “Not when we're all fucking awkward and weird.”

“Well...” Jakob laid down on his side and tugged at Gavrel, prodding him to do the same. He kissed him and said, “Let's make it not weird.”

Gavrel kissed him back and then said, “I wanna bottom.”

Jakob's gray eyes searched Gavrel's blue ones.

“Okay,” he said, moving back to a sitting position on his knees. Gavrel started to do the same, but Jakob motioned for him not to. He got up and went to his closet and returned with a box of condoms and bottle of lube.

“Why do you have condoms?” Gavrel asked.

“To wear one,” Jakob said, trying to hide the confusion in his voice.

“Do you already have sex?” Gavrel asked him.

“No.” Jakob's brows furrowed.

“Then we don't need them,” Gavrel told him. “That's only for when you're fucking more than one person.”

“How do you know that?” Jakob asked.

“Because that's what Ian and Mickey were bitching about when they found out Yev was having sex with that slutty teacher. They said they were going to have to start keeping condoms in the house again, but not so he could bang what's-her-face, but for when he started doing other girls. Girls his age,” Gavrel explained.

Jakob blinked and set the condoms down on the nightstand table. “Oh.”

He climbed back onto the bed and sighed through his nose. He looked at Gavrel.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“I think so,” Gavrel told him. “It's just like your fingers...only your dick.”

They started with fingers, and mouths, and hands all over each other-nothing out of the ordinary, but when it came time to the point that Gavrel was facing away from Jakob for the first time, he felt himself shaking.

“I think we shouldn't,” Jakob said hesitantly, kissing Gavrel's shoulder.

“I think we should,” Gavrel told him, and a very dark part of him knew it was because he had to know if he was really gay.

“Okay, well, just remember to relax,” Jakob said. “And tell me if I need to stop. I mean it, Gavvie. You'll tell me, right?”

“Yeah.” Gavrel nodded. “I'll tell you.”

============================================================================================

It was much more different than anything he'd imagined, and he came before Jakob ever had his hand on his penis, and he knew, that he was most definitely, without a doubt gay.

“That was good, right? I mean, for you?” Jakob asked, breathless as he wiped sweat from his forehead into his already damp hair.

“Yeah...” Gavrel breathed. “I mean, I'm not gonna lie. It hurt at first. A lot.”

“You told me you'd tell me to stop,” Jakob said, sounding slightly hurt.

“It's gonna hurt, Jake,” Gavrel told him. “It's your dick up my ass.”

The sound of thunder startled them both, followed by the lights flickering and then going out. The drizzle that had hung around all day turned into a downpour.

“Well, fuck us...” Gavrel said as they were now in pitch darkness. He felt Jakob snuggle up against him. Since it was dark, he pretended his rubbing the other boy's hair was an accident.

When he heard Jakob's breathing become deep and slow, he bit his bottom lip and then kissed him on his forehead before pulling the covers around them both and willing himself to sleep.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Gavvie!”

 

Gavrel frowned when Ian hit him with the rolled-up magazine once more. Gavrel had been on the couch watching some TV show about the FBI and a bomb and what not.

 

“What?” He asked, covering his head as the magazine came down and rapped on his head a few more times.

 

“Come with me,” Ian said. “I need to make a run to Academy and buy some new workout shorts,”

 

Gavrel hated a lot of things, but he hated nothing more than being dragged along on errand runs. He sat up and Ian kissed his cheek, draping himself over the back of the couch.

 

“I never get to spend time with you,” he told his son.

 

“I hate going shopping,” Gavrel groaned as Ian attacked his face with kisses and then stood upright and scuffed the back of his head.

 

“Come on,” he coaxed. “Get up. You need to move around anyway.”

 

Gavrel reluctantly stood up and asked, “Where's Izzy? Why can't she go?”

 

“Dad took Izzy and Yevvie to the gun range,” Ian said.

 

Gavrel frowned again.

 

“Why didn't he ask me to go?” He demanded. He actually did like going to the shooting range.

 

“I asked him not to,” Ian said. “I wanted to talk to you. We never get to talk anymore. We'll stop for lunch. How about that pizza place you like?”

 

Gavrel followed him outside to the car. He climbed into the passenger seat and put on his seatbelt. Ian, whistling, started the car and pulled out of the tiny driveway. As they rode to Academy in silence, Gavrel attempted to turn on the radio station. Ian turned it down to almost mute, but not quite.

 

“Dad says you and him had a pretty important talk a while back,” Ian said, glancing at him.

 

“About what?” Gavrel asked suspiciously.

 

“He wouldn't tell me,” Ian said, giving his son a half smile. “He just said you might wanna have this talk with me.”

 

“I hate having talks,” Gavrel reminded him. “Can't we just go get your workout shorts?”

 

“It was hard for Yevvie to come out and talk to us about what'd happened with Jennifer Tuley,” Ian said instead of answering him. “And Izzy about that Russian kid.”

 

“Not Russian,” Gavrel corrected him.

 

They arrived at Academy and Ian stopped the car, but made no move to get out.

 

“We don't have to talk about anything now,” Ian told him. “But whenever you're ready, I'll be here, okay? I'm your dad too. I love you too.”

 

“I'm gay,” Gavrel said, which didn't hurt as much as when he told Mickey. “Jakob's my...he's my boyfriend.”

 

Ian nodded, staring at him.

 

“Okay,” he said, like he expected Gavrel to go on.

 

“We had sex...” Gavrel said, looking down at his lap. “A few nights ago.”

 

“Gavvie...!” Ian covered his eyes with one hand and mouthed a foul word.

 

“What?” Gavrel's face heated up. “You see? This is why I hate talking! I get in trouble no matter what I do!”

 

“You aren't supposed to be having sex at fourteen,” Ian said. “You know that.”

 

“I had to!” Gavrel snapped, and for once, he was happy that his father looked baffled.

 

“You had to? The fuck does that mean?” Ian asked, sounding like Mickey.

 

“I had to know if I was really gay,” Gavrel told him. “Jakob didn't want to, so don't blame him. He wanted to wait a year, but I talked him into it.”

 

“Okay...” Ian sighed again, long and deep. “I'm glad you were honest with me, but Gavvie, we need to talk about sex and relationships, and that's our fault. Me, Daddy, Mom-we haven't really discussed this with any of you.”

 

He saw the mixture of anger, hurt, embarrassment, and other unpleasant emotions in his son's face as the fourteen-year-old sat stiffly in his seat and said nothing. He reached across the seat to take off the boy's cap and ruffle his hair.

 

“Me and Daddy,” he said. “We're gonna sit down and have a long talk-I don't care how much you whine about it- a talk about sex.”

 

 

 

To Be Continued...

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

“So, I'm going to wear a powder blue dress,” Tiffany said as she and Tiffany and Izzy sat down to lunch with some other girls that knew how to dress well and put on makeup. Izzy still wasn't allowed to wear makeup, but she managed to get away with tinted lip gloss and mascara once in a while.

“I'm so excited about the winter dance,” Jessica said. “Justin Knowles is going to ask me to go, I think.”

“Ugh.” Kylie Marcus let her head roll back dramatically as she opened a binder. “Mr. Wheatfall gave me a failing grade on this science quiz.”

“Maybe because you didn't write in rainbow glitter ink,” Jessica said and the other girls tittered. 

Izzy sipped at her milk carton and said nothing. Mr. Wheatfall was an openly gay science teacher. He really was kind of unfair and gave homework every single night, and he wasn't very nice, but they always had to attach 'gay' to their insults about him. 

“Do you guys think Joey Pols is cute?” Eliza Brenton asked suddenly. 

Izzy almost choked on her milk.

“Joey Pols?” Jessica scoffed. “He's cute, but he's an airhead.”

“Yeah,” Tiffany agreed. “Are you wanting to go to the dance with him?”

Eliza shrugged. “Maybe. He'd make a cute date, I guess.”

Izzy put her milk carton down. 

“I just remembered that I have to do something in the library,” she said. “I'll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Izzy!” They all waved.

Izzy really was going to the library. She often did just to get away from Jessica and Tiffany and the other girls that didn't think past their hair. What was wrong with her? These had been the kind of girls that tormented her in elementary school, and now she was eating lunch and passing notes with them. As she opened the heavy library door, someone was walking out and dropped a handful of books. It was a girl that Izzy saw often around school-tall and looming with an unfortunate bob and clothes were that were very outdated-things like old lady slacks and button up blouses. 

“Sorry,” the girl muttered.

“No, it was my fault,” Izzy said. “Let me help you.”

One of the books was an art book with beautifully sketched ballerinas on the front. She handed them to the girl. The girl smiled, showing off crooked, discolored teeth.   
“You're nice,” she said, and Izzy automatically knew something was not quite right about her. She was probably in the special needs program.

“Hey,” Izzy told her. “I bumped into you so no big deal.”

A couple of boys walked by, shoving and goofing around, and one of them cat-called to Izzy. The girl smiled at them and waved a few of her fingers and the boys snorted, whispering things about her. One of them began hitting his chest with the side of his hand and said, “Durrr...!”

Izzy licked her lips and looked away from them. She looked back at the girl who was still smiling, but seemed to understand the insults had been directed at her.

“They're just being jerks,” Izzy said, her cheeks heating. 

“Did you draw that?” The girl asked, pointing to Izzy's binder which had a clear pocket in the front. Izzy had slid one of her own drawings in- a pair of hands holding lightning in a bottle. 

“Oh, yeah, I did,” Izzy said. 

“You draw good,” the girl said. “I like to draw, but I don't draw good.”

Izzy shrugged. “It's the process, not the product that counts. My mom always tells me that.”

She smiled when she saw Joey walk up to them, crunching into an apple. He was tossing a baseball into the air with his free hand.

“Hey,” He told Izzy and then smiled at the other girl. “Hey.”

“She draws good,” the girl said, pointing at Izzy. 

Izzy wondered what Joey would say, now that it was obvious the girl had some sort of developmental delay, but Joey only nodded, grinning at Izzy.

“Yeah, she's an artist,” he said. “She thinks of this crazy stuff and then makes it happen on paper and stuff.”

The girl walked away and Izzy said, “I helped her pick up her books.”

“Okay.” Joey hardly seemed interested. “Want to get our homework out of the way? Today's a run day.”

He shook her by the shoulder and repeated, “Run day!”

Izzy groaned. 

“It's, like, four degrees outside,” she said.

The librarian shushed them as they walked in and Izzy smiled at her apologetically. They took their usual table near the back and got started on their homework. Joey, who acted less goofy about school work now, sped through his math problems and began his science work.

“Do you like Mr. Wheatfall?” Izzy asked.

“Nope,” Joey said simply. “He gave us homework on Thanksgiving break.”

“Jennifer and Tiffany were talking about him,” Izzy said, chewing on her pen. “They were also talking about the winter dance.”

“Oh.” Joey didn't even look up. “Okay.”

Izzy frowned. Sometimes Joey's cluelessness wasn't an act. 

“Are you going?” She asked, trying to keep her voice light.

“Nah, I can't dance,” Joey said. “And I'd have to wear nice clothes and nice clothes are always itchy.”

“It might be fun,” Izzy told him. “Maybe they have good food.”

“Hey, Izzy!”

Izzy looked up to see Tiffany, Jessica, Eliza, and Kylie. Her face heated once more. Jessica looked around and asked, “Are you doing homework during lunch?”

“We always do,” Joey said simply. “We don't like to do it at home.”

Eliza smiled and slid into the seat next to Joey.

“That's a good idea,” she said. “Ugh. Mr. Wheatfall's homework?”

“I know, right?” Joey replied. 

“So are you going to the dance with anyone?” She asked. “Because I was thinking maybe since we have science class together-”

“I already asked someone,” Joey said. “Sorry.”

“Oh.” Eliza scooted the chair back and stood up.

“Izzy, this is where the nerds and retards hang out,” Jessica told her. “Don't stay too long, girl.”

They left laughing loudly and the librarian scolded them for their volume level. Izzy sat there, her face red, her writing hand frozen. Joey looked at her.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Um, yeah.” She stood up, packing her things back up. “I have to go, I didn't get to...eat...”

“You don't wanna eat in here like always?” Joey asked, taking his lunch kit from his backpack. It was the expensive kind used for camping because his mother always packed something that needed to stay cold or fresh. Like Ian, she made good lunches.

“I thought you weren't going to the dance,” Izzy told him. “Thanks for lying to me again.”

As she exited the library, she felt like crying. Joey talked to everyone, he was a naturally sociable and friendly person, but he never really acted like he liked Izzy the way she liked him. She'd been desperately trying to pick up on any kind of signs since school started, but he treated her the same as he treated everyone else, and now she knew that's what she would always be if he'd already asked another girl to the dance.  
\--------------  
Gavrel didn't know what he was doing as he stepped off the bus. Jakob's home on the north side was only a block away, which didn't give him much time to reconsider. Gavrel missed Jakob terribly and wasn't sure how to fix what was wrong between them. A light flurry of snow started, and he suddenly wished he would slip and fall on the sidewalk so he would have an excuse not to walk to Jakob's house. Maybe instead he could call him and any rejection or angry words that came his way would be easier to take over the phone.  
It seemed like only minutes before he was knocking on the white door. The front door, like everything else including the large house itself, was white. White and clean, not like the Milkovich house on the south side which was clean, but cluttered, and none of the furniture inside went together. Gavrel liked being in a cozy, mismatched home. He realized, suddenly, that maybe Jake did too. 

“Hello, Gavrel,” Jakob's mother said as she opened the door. “Come in.”  
“Thank you,” he said, suddenly feeling warmer now that he was inside. He felt too warm.  
“Jakob is in his room upstairs,” Mrs. Sitruk told him, and then went on about her business.

Normally, Gavrel enjoyed parents who minded their own business and didn't try and meddle in their kid's, but now he longed for the distraction. He traveled upstairs and to Jake's room, which felt familiar, but in a sad kind of way.

"Jake?" Gavrel stood in the open doorway, unsure of what to do or say. He always felt uncomfortable in Jake's house. Everything was so white and clean and quiet.

Jake turned around, his brows furrowing slightly. Gavrel couldn't help the half smile that betrayed his own nervousness. Just seeing the other boy made his heart...do something. He wasn't sure what, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever truly know, and that scared him sometimes.

"What are you doing here?" Jake asked.

"I wasn't sure if I should call," Gavrel replied, suddenly feeling stupid. 'What are you doing here' had not been the reaction he'd hoped for.

He removed his hat and ran a hand through his thick red hair, feeling glad to have something for his nervous hands to play with. He twisted the beanie around between his fingers.

"I miss you." The words were hard to get out.

Jakob opened his mouth, but closed it and then opened it again. 

"You really shouldn't come over without calling first," he said, looking away.

"Come on, Man-" Gavrel tried, but Jakob shook his head.

"You said horrible things to me, Gavrel."

"And I'm sorry, okay?" Gavrel let the hat drop to the floor so his hands could fly. "I'm sorry I said horrible things. I didn't mean them, and I'm stupid and I should have apologized earlier and I don't understand the rules!"

Jakob frowned at him.

"What rules?" He asked.

"The rules of being someone's boyfriend," Gavrel said, his face heating.

 

\----------------

“It's fuckin' cold out there,” Mickey said, walking into the house. “Dinner smells good. What is that?”

“Stroganoff and coleslaw,” Ian replied. “It just got done.”

He silently prodded Izzy to set the table. Izzy did as she was told, though not verbally, and Mickey watched her as he removed his heavy coat and threw it over the back of the couch.

“What's with you?” He asked.

“Nothing,” she said.

“C'mon, Kid,” he said. “Give me some credit.”

Izzy put the final plate down and sighed. For reasons she didn't really understand, she did not want to discuss these things with her parents. Tiffany and her bunch, Mr. Wheatfall, Joey. These were now things that she wanted to keep to herself. 

The front door opened again and Yevgeny and Gavrel came inside holding a large box with a fake Christmas tree inside.

“Told you we could find one cheaper on Craigslist,” Yevgeny said. “Now we can throw that one with the broken stand out.”

“Good call,” Mickey told them. “Dinner's ready. You two wash up.”

“You too,” Ian said, flicking Mickey's ear. 

Mickey flipped him off before heading upstairs with the boys. After he was gone, Ian grabbed Izzy from behind and kissed her cheek- a big wet sloppy kiss with a smacking sound.

“Daddy!” Izzy raised her shoulder to her ear and couldn't help but smile. 

“What's on your mind?” Ian asked, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

“I just-”

A knock sounded at the door and Ian removed himself from her to go answer it. It was Joey. 

“Hey, Joey,” he said. “You hungry?”

“Um, no, I was just wondering if I could talk to Izzy out here for a minute,” Joey said. 

“It's freezing, but I'll ask her,” Ian said, but he didn't need to. Izzy squeezed past him and shut the door behind her. 

“Hey,” he told her.

“Hey,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her biceps. 

“I didn't ask anybody to the dance,” he told her.

I figured you didn't,” Izzy said. “That was just to get Eliza off your back.”

It didn't matter. The fact that Joey didn't want to be with anyone wasn't the problem. The problem was that he didn't want to be with her.

Joey jammed his hands into his coat pockets. He looked around and then said, “I was planning on asking you.”

Izzy frowned. “So why didn't you?”

“It just didn't seem like something you'd wanna do,” he said with a shrug. “Or me. Which I really don't, but maybe it could be fun. I mean, I see dancing on TV. People just sort of wiggle around.”

Izzy couldn't help her half grin.

“My dad is a great dancer,” she said. “He could teach us.”

“So you wanna go?” He asked. “Because I'll ask you.”

“Are you asking me now?” Izzy asked. 

Joey shrugged. Izzy rolled her eyes.

“Okay, yes, I'm asking you,” Joey said. “But only if you'll still go running with me.”

“Yes,” Izzy said. “And you'll still sit in my room while I draw or paint and tell me about sports.”

“Yeah.” Joey nodded. “And if you...”

A huge gust of icey wind blew through, making the wind chimes sing loudly. The tall outside garbage can near the curb tipped on its side. 

“If I what?” Izzy asked, thinking maybe she hadn't heard him over the noise.

Joey bit his bottom lip before he leaned forward and took her by her upper arms that were cold because she was wearing short sleeves. Izzy didn't even have time to blink before he pressed his lips to hers, and then pulled her a little closer. When he pulled away, even his ears were red. 

“I'll pick up your trash can,” he told her. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “See you at school.”  
\--- 

 

“So Slop actually kissed you?” Gavrel asked as he played his video game sitting cross-legged on the floor. Izzy was sprawled out on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Is this how you felt?” Izzy asked. “With Jacob? Like everything is just better?”

Gavrel didn't say anything. Izzy sighed and rolled over onto her stomach so she could face him, his profile anyway.

“Daddy said when Daddy Mickey first kissed him, he can still remember what it felt like to this day, like now. I hope that happens with me, except for Joey's lips were kind of chapped, but it is cold outside.”

Yevegeny entered the room, fresh from his shower and sat on the opposite bed, pulling on a pair of clean socks to go with his pajama bottoms and t-shirt. 

“Slop kissed Izzy,” Gavrel told him.

“Oh,” Yevgeny said. “That's nice, I guess.”

“It was more than nice,” Izzy said. “But don't tell Daddy or Daddy Ian because they'll freak out.”

She sat up and asked, “Do you like kissing Lita?”

Gavrel snorted and Yevgeny threw his wet towel on him. He turned to his sister and asked, “Yeah, I think it's a lot more special when someone is also your friend and not just your boyfriend or girlfriend.”

Ian knocked on the door before opening it all the way. 

“Whole gang's here, huh?” He joked. “What are you guys up to?”

“Playing X-Box,” Gavrel said.

“School night,” Ian reminded them. 

Mickey called something loudly down the hall and Ian sighed before shutting the door and yelling back. The Milkoviches were a family of screamers. 

“I need to go shower,” Izzy said, leaving the room.

“So how'd it go with Jacob?” Yevgeny asked.

“How did what go?” Gavvie frowned, turning to glance at him. 

Yevgeny sighed and smiled a little. Gavrel paused the game and turned all the way around.

“I know,” Yevgeny said quietly. 

Gavrel tossed the controller.

“Who told you?” He demanded.

“Nobody,” Yevgeny said. “Well, Izzy confirmed it but only because I asked her.”

“Izzy!” Gavrel stood up and started for the door, but his older brother took him by the wrist. 

“She tried to lie about it, okay?” He told him. “I sort of already knew.”

“What? That I'm a fag?” Gavrel replied bitterly, moving to sit on his bed. 

“It's not a big deal,” Yevgeny said.

“Why? Because Dad and Daddy Ian are gay? That makes it weirder.”

Yevgeny moved to sit beside him. He pulled Gavrel into a one-armed hug and kissed his forehead. 

“Have you ever heard of pansexual?” He asked him quietly.

“No,” Gavrel said. “I've heard of bisexual.”

“No, Pan is different,” Yevgeny told him. “It's where you're not really attracted to someone because of their gender. It's their personality, your connection to them.”

“That's kind of how it is with Jake,” Gavrel said, his voice softening slightly. “I just like him and I'm not sure if I could like another guy.”

“It doesn't matter,” Yevgeny said, shrugging. “Eventually these labels will be a thing of the past and nobody will care.”

Gavrel met his brother's eyes.

“Do you care?” He asked. “And be honest.”

“I do,” Yevgeny told him, and Gavrel's heart sank.

“I care about you being happy, and I worry about you being worried about all of this,” his brother continued. “The same way I worry about me and Lita and now Izzy and Joey. Not really Mom and Alex and our dads.”

Gavrel didn't say anything. Yevgeny stood up to clear off his bed and move things onto the floor. 

“I miss Jake,” Gavrel finally said. 

Yevgeny flopped onto his bed and sighed.

“Talk to him, Gavvie,” he said. 

“I tried,” His younger brother replied sharply. “He said I messed up too bad, and then I even reminded him that I was his stupid boyfriend even though that's what got me in trouble in the first place and he told me to go.”

“Write him a letter,” Yevgeny said simply. “Sometimes people say what they really mean in writing better than they can say when they're not ready to say it out loud.”

Gavrel moved across the small space between the twin beds and sat down beside his brother who was lying down on his side.

“Do you think Dad and Ian ever had these problems?” He asked him. 

Yevgeny shrugged.

“They've been together since they were, like, five or something,” Gavrel said, lying on his side to face his brother. “Probably not.”

Izzy walked back into the room and wordlessly climbed onto the bed on the other side of Yevgeny, curling up next to him.

“Are we spooning or something?” She asked.

“We're having a brotherly moment,” Yevgeny told her. 

“No sisters allowed?” Izzy guessed.

Yevgeny rolled onto his back and stretched out, popping a few of his muscles.

“Nah, sisters are alright,” he said.

After several seconds of silence, Yevgeny asked her, “You think our parents ever had the problems we do?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back. I've had bad writers block lately (I guess that's what it is. Every time I started this fic, I was like Spongebob when he had to write that essay and kept finding other things to do) but here is more Milkovich family drama, feels, fluff, all that good stuff! I appreciate the feedback, as usual, and please shoot me any ideas you might have in the comments or a private message because I could use them now more than ever. Thanks!


End file.
